


Written Confessional

by LuckBeABugaboo (Sassydelusions)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien literally always waxing poetic, Aged-Up Character(s), Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluffy, Identity Reveal, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, The entire love square will get featured in some way or another, Unresolved Sexual Tension, adrien is a sappy fanfic writer, fanfic-ception, i'm awful at tagging so please let me know if i need to add anything, it's been six years since they first started fighting akumas, sexual tags will be added when sexual chapters arrive, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassydelusions/pseuds/LuckBeABugaboo
Summary: Her fingers moved at a snail’s pace, one damning letter at a time.LIt wasn’t like she hadn’t seen fan art, this was hardly different.AAlya had said there was interesting insight. Insight was always a good thing to have.DMaybe she’d find something super well written and it wouldn’t even freak her out because it was so good.Y“Oh god, what am I doing? This is insane! I..” Marinette jerked her fingers from the keyboard and ran them through her hair. She wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. The can of worms had been opened, it was no use trying to put them back in.NOIRNothing could have prepared her for what she was met with when she hit enter. Google pulled a mere62,000,000results.--Or; in which Marinette discovers some Ladynoir fanfiction that is, unbeknownst to her, written by Chat Noir himself.





	1. Bugaboo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbetaed so please bear with me, y'all. My first Miraculous fic, but far from my first fic ever. This is mostly just crack being taken way too seriously, but I've had such a blast working on it and I'm super excited to share it with you all!

_ La Mer  _ played in the background as Marinette hummed along and busied herself with sketches. Bold lines created a delicate silhouette that she intended to splash with airy pastels. She could envision the dress in her mind, she knew exactly what kinds of silky fabrics and gossamer laces would be required to bring it to life and she was hoping and praying that her employer would give her the chance to see it go into production. The most marvelous part of design was seeing it come to life, watching as something that had only been in her mind came to life and drifted down the runway.

  


She rarely used her eraser, preferring to let the dress come free organically. Any alterations could be done after the fact in the second or third draft. Over the distance drifting of music, her best friend’s voice was playing their the speaker of her phone. Alya was detailing her day in excited tones, talk of how she had a new lead on Ladybug’s identity and how she was sure this would be the scoop of all scoops. Marinette had heard that more times than she could count, and every time it almost made her feel guilty for lying to her… almost. Alya’s safety would be compromised if she knew and that safety was the most important thing in the world.

  


“I’ve been scouring the internet for new insight on Chat Noir, the theories that people have for him are absolutely wild, girl. You wouldn’t believe the crazy theories about his identity and background.” Alya laughed. “I think my favorite ones always come from the weird fanfiction corner of the internet.”

  


Marinette’s fingers stilled and she choked. Blood rushed up to her face and she was certain she was soon going to be the same color as the red suit she wore when fighting crime. “F-Fanfiction?!” She tried not to sound incredulous and completely failed. “You mean… like… fiction about Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

  


“Yeah. Have you never heard of it? It’s a sizzling community, they never slow down. People who think they’re a couple have nicknamed them LadyNoir and write stories that are hundreds of thousands of words about their secret romance. It’s insane.” Her best friend’s voice was filled with a weird kind of admiration. Alya knew all about being dedicated to a crazy cause, so Marinette couldn’t be too shocked by it. “There’s all kinds of speculation about their identities, though. It’s always big name celebs who they guess, though. I personally think that if Ladybug were an a-lister in her daily life that I would have figured it out by now.”

  


Curiosity was dangerous, but the saying said that it killed the cat, not the bug. She set her sketchbook aside and slid her keyboard to the center of the desk. “There’s… a lot of it?” 

  


God, this was a horrible impulse. She had always thought when she was little that being famous would be the most awkward event because she’d have the knowledge somewhere in the back of her mind that random strangers were obsessing over her. When she became Ladybug, that was really the last thing on her mind. She was so busy with taking down threats that she didn’t have the time to wonder if people thought that her and Chat Noir were secretly holding hands on the Eiffel Tower. _Probably much more than just holding hands, Marinette._

  


If she wasn’t already crimson colored, she certainly was after that thought.

  


“Hey, hey, if you’re going to Google it then  **please** turn your safesearch on. I don’t want you complaining that I didn’t supply you with eyebleach.” Her friend’s phone buzzed on the other end and then she cursed. “Fuck. I just remembered I’ve got a deadline for work. I’ve gotta let you go, ‘Nette. Don’t read anything I wouldn’t!”

  


The line went dead and the soundtrack switched to something a bit more upbeat and bouncy. Marinette agonized over what to do next. She let her fingers linger over the keyboard, but she didn’t dare type a single letter. A million anxious questions left her petrified. If she didn’t look it up then she was going to be dying to know what it was all about, but if she did then she was going to be entirely unable to forget about what she saw. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. 

  


Rationalizations came slowly and after a few long moments, she decided to bite. It was for research. That’s all it was. Totally it. Nothing else.

  


Her fingers moved at a snail’s pace, one damning letter at a time.  **L** It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen fan art, this was hardly different.  **A** Alya had said there was interesting insight. Insight was always a good thing to have.  **D** Maybe she’d find something super well written and it wouldn’t even freak her out because it was so good.  **Y**

  


“Oh god, what am I doing? This is insane! I..” Marinette jerked her fingers from the keyboard and ran them through her hair. She wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. The can of worms had been opened, it was no use trying to put them back in. 

  


**NOIR**

  


Nothing could have prepared her for what she was met with when she hit enter. Google pulled a mere  _ 62,000,000  _ results. Marinette felt dizzy. If she hadn’t been sitting, she was certain she would have fallen over. She didn’t click on the image tab, she was on a very specific mission and it didn’t involve comprehensive timelines of when she and the cat supposedly got together and all the times they’d slipped up in public or weird press photos that were taken completely out of context. Marinette was here for the written form of this mess, which was possibly just as bad if not worse. 

  


A fanfiction archive was the third result, Marinette braced herself, and then she clicked. There were pages upon pages of stories, some being hundreds of thousands of words. She’d never felt so daunted. With an abundance of options overwhelming her, she began bouncing from one description to the next, hoping to find one that wasn’t too intimidating. 

  


_ Behind every great woman, is a stupid cat. _

  


She snorted and shook her head. That couldn’t be too bad… right? 

  


**Wrong.**

  


Marinette was horrified to discover that when they said “behind” they had something a little bit more literal in mind than her original assumption. It was at this point that she discovered the importance of the rating system. Anything rated  **E** was explicit and usually had little to it besides needlessly graphic sex. An **M** rating housed dark themes, intense fighting, and was often sprinkled with slightly less intense sexual interactions.  **T** meant that all mature content had to be closed door, something she greatly appreciated, and  **G** was usually short and sweet and lacking in anything remotely sexual.

  


With her knew understanding of the site, she was finding it a bit easier to navigate what she may or may not what to click on. She was about three stories deep and she was beginning to realize a pattern of how people liked to portray her and her cat-like companion. It was always romantic, usually reciprocated, and often very sweet. Whether or not they knew one another’s identities varied, but it seemed that most of France agreed that they were both absolutely enamored. 

  


“Marinette, you’ve been at this for three hours.” Tikki spoke up finally, concern in her voice. “You’ll be up all night at this rate.”

  


The designer sat upright, yanking her fingers from the keyboard as if it had burned her. “You’re right. I really should stop… it’s just so…” Her cheeks were still on fire, it was impossible for them not to be when reading about herself in such a strange capacity. “It’s weird seeing yourself from someone else’s eyes.”

  


Her kwami smiled. “Have you stumbled across any of those interesting theories Alya was talking about?”

  


“Hm, not really. The most outlandish theory I’ve seen so far is that Chat Noir and I secretly live together and run a very successful coffee shop by the Louvre.” Marinette giggled, and brushed some of her hair back behind her ear. “Though, I haven’t made it past the first page of stories.”

Tikki bumped against her cheek. “It sounds to me like you’re enjoying yourself. Do you have something you want to say about Chat Noir that you’re not telling me?” She teased.

  


“Never!” Marinette huffed out in an instant. “You know I’m completely set on-- WHAT?!” 

  


She stopped mid sentence as she looked back to her computer and was met with easily the wildest premise she’d seen all night.

  


_ Having everything isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Adrien Agreste, Chat Noir by night, has been in love with the same girl from the moment he met her. The problem with that was that this woman happens to be Ladybug and she’s entirely written Chat Noir off as nothing more than a partner. Despite his many attempts to woo her, he’s never really successful, and the entirety of Paris only adds insult to injury by assuming she returns his affections. _

  


_ Will the love struck feline ever earn her affections or will he exhaust all nine of his lives trying? _

  


“A-Adrien? Chat Noir?” Her hand shot to the mouse again, her finger itching to click. “I take it back, Tikki. These fanfiction writers are insane.”

  


Tikki laughed, a sound that seemed strangely nervous. Marinette assumed she was just imagining it and put the thought to the wayside as she decided to begin reading. The story had ten chapters and was still ongoing. The author, _Le_ _ ChatMalchanceux _ , mentioned in the opening notes that he didn’t really have an outline and was just using the story as a way to clear their head.

  


The very first thing she noticed as she began reading was that the quality of writing was quite a bit better than the others she’d shifted through thus far. The second thing she noticed was that it was from Chat Noir’s point of view, and the pining was palpable. Her heart felt heavy with a guilt that wasn’t really her own. This wasn’t the real Chat Noir, he didn’t really feel this lonely, but somehow, it felt so incredibly authentic. 

  


Despite Tikki reminding her at least forty times that it was getting late, Marinette read through all ten chapters, her face heated pink and her heart pounding against her ribs. This was absolutely impossible, but it felt almost too accurate to be fake.

  


* * *

  


_ She moves like moonbeams in the night, her dainty feet barely kissing the rooftops as she glides through the air. The night sky couldn’t compete with glimmering of her eyes, stars reflecting like diamonds on an endless blue sea. It’s said that nothing is more romantic than a Parisian night, but he believes firmly that those who believe such a saying have yet to look upon his Ladybug.  She looks back at him with a soul rending smile on her lips, her head shaking as she giggles and speaks with the voice of an angel. “Silly, chaton.” _

  


_ He flashes a toothy grin, adopting a cheshire charm to match the black ears atop his head. “I’m only foolish for you, M’lady.”  _

  


_ They land side by side and he has to catch his breath. Chat pretends that it’s due to the patrol of the city, but he wonders if she can see right through his dark armor. A black leather suit and a carefree smile aren’t exactly impenetrable. He relaxes his stance, leaning against his staff and watching as the bespeckled beauty looks out over their city. He concludes that he must be the most unlucky man in all of France. By daylight, every woman dreams of being by his side, and by moonlight he stands beside a woman who he couldn’t have  _ **_even_ ** _ in his own dreams.  _

  


_ She’s lady luck and he’s the black cat who’s destined to never truly cross her path.  _

  


_ “Chat Noir, Chat Noir are you awake over there?” Her voice pulls him from his stupor and he coughs awkwardly before sliding up to her side.  _

  


_ “My apologies, Bugaboo. I didn’t mean to take a little cat nap on you.” She groans on his side and he can’t stop himself from grinning. “I purrrrr-omise I’m wide awake now.” _

  


_ “I was just saying that the coast seems to be clear.” Ladybug leans against the ledge. “We can do one more circuit along the Seine and call it a night. I’ve got a long day tomorrow so I think the sooner we can wrap this up the better.” _

  


_ “Meo-yowch, M’lady. Are you saying that you aren’t dying to spend time with me?”  He puts two hands over his broken heart, overdramatized to save himself the real pain of rejection. _

  


_ “We still have one more lap. Let’s see if you can keep up, Chat.” Her giggle is deafening in the best kind of way. He hears her yo-yo zip through the air, and in a flash of red and black, she’s gone again. _

  


_ Ladybug doesn’t have wings, but she seems to fly right from his grasp despite his cat-like reflexes. Their intimate moments are short, teasing glimpses into what could be if they weren’t stuck at an impasse. The besotted feline had been trying to get to know her better for six years, but she was set on their relationship being strictly professional. They were the saviors of Paris and for everyone’s safety, it was best they not get in too deep. _

  


_ Just as he’s always done, he extends his staff and chases after her in the night. Always a few feet behind. _

_  
_

* * *

  


Adrien wasn’t sure when exactly he’d started reading Ladynoir fanfiction. It was some point between his sophomore and junior year, when he was so swamped with work that he hardly had the time to breathe between school work, mandatory extracurricular activities, and various adverts, photo shoots, and runway appearances.  _ Gabriel  _ was the hottest fashion brand in the world and Adrien was the most exhausted teenager in the universe. All of this was before factoring in the numerous akumas that terrorized Paris on a weekly basis.

  


He needed something quiet and non labor intensive. He was no stranger to real person fiction. As a supermodel and a famous public figure, Adrien had girls tell him all the time that they wrote stories about him. It was hardly a hop skip and a jump to find stories about Ladybug. The first Ladynoir fanfiction he ever read was called  _ Love Bug _ and it chronicled Ladybug’s many attempts to try and tell Chat Noir that she wanted to meet some time without the masks. It was cute and short, but it was absolutely a fantasy. He didn’t relate too heavily to the oblivious depiction of Chat and Ladybug wasn’t quite accurate either. In the end, neither things mattered all that much because the gate was open and he began the journey from one fic to the next.

  


When he inevitably ran out of things to read, he realized that he’d have to take matters into his own hands. Adrien spent days trying to plot out his very first fanfic. He wanted their to be lots of super awesome akuma attacks and he wanted them to fall in love in a way that felt organic and developed over time. In the fandom they called it a slowburn, but he wasn’t really one to get caught up on vernacular. 

  


Weeks passed and he still didn’t have a solid plot. After a month or so, he realized what the problem was. Chat Noir. He had been trying to proceed as if Chat was someone entirely different, some guy who was completely happy with his life and wasn’t using his time in the catsuit as a sweet escape. After a long argument with Plagg about whether or not it was a good idea, Plagg being for it and Adrien against it, Adrien decided to just put his secret identity on display. 

  


“It’s just a story, it’s not like anyone actually reads these things or gives them any serious thought.” The kwami said around a mouthful of camembert. 

  


And that’s when it all clicked into place. Any time he wasn’t behind a camera, Adrien was busy at work on his story. Being twenty-years-old he sometimes wondered if he was maybe too old to be engaging in a fandom, but any time he casually asked Nino if it was weird to enjoy fanworks he was told it was no big deal. He tactfully left out what kind of fanworks, though.

  


_ Bugaboo  _ was slated to be about thirty chapters with a very rough idea of where it was going to go. He agonized over posting the first chapter, mentally hyping himself up for about an hour before finally copying and pasting the document. The very first comment was a simple “Super excited for this please update soon”, and from there on he had no reservations. Even when the eventual hate made its way into his comments section. 

  


He didn’t have to hold back a single thought. He could write Chat Noir as complete infatuated with Ladybug and nobody ever questioned it, he could write that the loneliness was slowing eating him up inside and it wasn’t ever viewed as weak. The story was just true enough that he could pretend for a few moments that she stole as many glances his way as he did hers, but it was enough of a fairytale that he didn’t have to feel crushed every time he closed the document. 

  


The story became his best kept secret. It was something he didn’t talk about to anyone, not Nino, not Ladybug, not a single soul. Plagg was his soul confidante and reluctant beta reader.  And while he wasn’t exactly the best beta in the world, he had enough sense stop Adrien from posting sentences that made it way too likely that he was actually Chat Noir or Adrien Agreste. 

  


At about four in the morning, Adrien’s phone pinged to inform him that he had a new email. He had a shoot to be at in two hours so he was already up for his morning routine, well into brushing his teeth to be exact. Toothbrush hanging from his lips, he plucked up the phone and just about swallowed the plastic brush as he read the screen.

  


_ LaPetiteLadybug has commented on Chapter 10 of Bugaboo: _

  


_ Silly, Chaton. I wasn’t really sure what to think when I saw that his secret identity was going to be Adrien Agreste, but something about it feels so [Read more] _

  


“No way.” He spit out the toothbrush and the ample amount of minty fresh paste along with it. A quick rinse and spit later, he was seated on the edge of his bathtub reading the full comment. 

  


_ Silly, Chaton. I wasn’t really sure what to think when I saw that his secret identity was going to be Adrien Agreste, but something about it feels so honest, as if Chat Noir himself were sitting at the keyboard and hoping with all his heart that someday Ladybug might read his secret confessions. I found myself feeling so sad for him, something that I never might have thought if I hadn’t clicked. Thank you for this wild ride and I look forward to the next update. I hope that Adrien finds peace of mind and that he doesn’t have to feel this lonely forever. <3 L.B. _

  


There were lots of people who had Ladybug themed names or who commented with little words of endearment for the troubled cat in the story, but for some reason he felt his heart begin to pound at his ribcage like an animal in captivity upon reading the first few words. He couldn’t prove that it was her, but something akin to a hunch had him convinced that this had to be his Ladybug. It was that same feeling he’d had all those years ago when he discovered her Valentine’s poem, something inexplicable but irrefutable. 

  


“Aaaadrien, hurry uuuuup. I’m huuuungry.” Plagg’s whining sounded from the otherside of the door and Adrien reluctantly got back onto his feet.

  


“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He sighed, far more dreamily than intended, and pulled on his shirt for the day. 

  


His schedule was cram packed with a long photo shoot for the upcoming winter catalogue and interviews sprinkled through his afternoon. Nino and Alya were having a party to celebrate the fact that they’d finally finished moving into their house and Adrien had sworn on his life that he wouldn’t miss it. Alya hadn’t let him hear the end of it the last time he couldn’t make it to one of their events and he wasn’t about to subject himself to that kind of terror again any time soon.

  


As he pulled a jacket on and wrapped his scarf over his neck, Adrien hoped he’d have enough downtime to start working on his next chapter. He hadn’t felt this inspired in ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi, hello, Tia here. Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://luckbeabugaboo.tumblr.com) where I'm always taking prompts and may or may not sometimes divulge my plans for this fic. Thanks for reading <3


	2. Just words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was OVERWHELMED by the love sent to chapter one. Thank you guys so much for being so encouraging! I already have half of the next chapter written so I'll probably have it up in the next week.

He tried his best not to think about it. He made it through hair and makeup without letting his mind drift back to the comment, but by the time he was dressed and ready to head to set, Adrien’s thoughts had taken a decided u-turn back towards the comment. A sensible person would stop wondering, but if hoping for Ladybug’s attention in any medium made him senseless then he had no desire to be practical.    
  
It was a cute mental image, Ladybug wrapped up in blankets reading fanfiction on her phone. He had to admit that it was a mild sting that even in his fantasies he couldn’t picture her without that red and black mask around her eyes. There was an added layer of charm that came from a literal superhero snuggled up in a duvet, though. She must have been smiling as she read his words, maybe laughing at how familiar things seemed or groaning at the cat puns she loved to hate(or hated to love, if he did say so himself).    
  
Adorable as his musing were, they weren’t very productive and his photographer had to repeatedly remind him that they were aiming for something scathing, not dreamy. He had to put his wistful gaze away and offer up something at least a bit more serious. Instead of thinking about Ladybug and how blue her eyes were or how melodious her voice was, Adrien let his thoughts move towards all the arrangements that needed to be handled before Paris Fashion Week blew into town. Spring felt like it was right around the corner with the way his father was firing people left and right.

 

_ Gabriel _ was the brand name on every critics lips. Whether it was love generated for the quality of the designs or hate brought about by Gabriel Agreste’s lack of public appearances and icy demeanor; everyone had something to say. That was exactly how his father had kept it for the last decade and that was his intended hopes for the future, a future that he was planning to turn over to Adrien when the time was right. Adrien hoped and prayed that the time was never going to be right. 

 

To avoid sounding ungrateful, Adrien never really talked about how much he disliked the fashion industry. He’d been in the spotlight for as long as he could remember and his father’s high profile status was not only exhausting, but daunting. He didn’t have a passion for design like his father, he didn’t have a mind for business like his father’s assistant, and he didn’t have the passion for modeling that he had to constantly pretend he had. Hate was a strong word to attach to his profession, but distaste didn’t feel right either. 

 

“Adrien, you look depressed. I’ll take dreamy over mopey. Light up, sparkle, dazzle, but brood. Give me passion! Give me focus!” Vincent threw his arms out wide, snapping Adrien back into focus with that thick Italian accent. 

 

“Ah. Sorry, Vincent.” A toothy smile was given. “I’ve got my mind stuck on business again.” 

 

Vincent nodded a few times, and indicated that he wanted Adrien to change poses with a few quick gestures. “Okay, let’s try again. Remember, scathing, scorching, ferocious! Light me on fire with your eyes!”

 

Adrien sat on the white box in the center of the staging area, resting his arm on his knee and tilting his head down. When Vincent began calling out all varieties of praise in his native language, Adrien had to force himself not to smile. Some things never did change. No matter how beastly his father became due to work or anything else that might have been troubling him, Vincent was always going to be that same impassioned visionary he’d been for as long as he’d known him. Adrien appreciated the little constants in his life, Nino, Alya, and Marinette who had been his friends since middle school, and of course, Ladybug. 

 

Everything around Adrien’s life could crumble to bits and Ladybug would still always be there. She wasn’t a part of his “real” life, but he often felt like their bond was the most real thing he’d ever felt. When Chat Noir was out on the night, following behind this amazingly strong woman, he was able to be whatever it was he wanted. There was no need to fake or fuss over little details. Chat Noir wasn’t limited the way that Adrien Agreste was. But, as fate would have it, the one line the black cat of the night couldn’t cross was the one line he wanted to sprint through like an Olympian runner out for the gold. Ladybug was off limits.

 

Maybe she wasn’t as off limits as he thought, though. If that comment really was her then maybe somehow, someway, she’d find him through her reading. She was looking into the deepest parts of his heart and he couldn’t help but be hopeful that she’d find something there. It struck him right away that she mentioned that she reservations about him being Adrien Agreste, somewhere in his heart of hearts he couldn’t help but wonder what about him being Adrien seemed weird. Was Ladybug not a fan? Anytime they’d talked with him outside his catsuit she seemed nice and she seemed happy to help him, but maybe she was just like that with everyone. 

 

Vincent clapped and the big spotlights clicked off. “Wonderful, perfect, absolutely flawless! Go get into your next outfit and we’ll move forward with phase two.”

 

“You got it, boss.” Adrien grinned, hopping up onto his feet and back into reality. 

 

Once in the safety of his dressing room, he slumped onto the little sofa and grabbed his phone from the table beside it. This was the umpteenth time he’d checked his messages and found himself rereading her comment. At this rate he’d have a new bad habit by the time the sun set.

 

“Sighing that often has to be bad for your life expectancy or something.” Plagg groused as he whisked out into the open. “Doesn’t obsessing like that make you hungry? Watching you lose your mind is making me absolutely starving.”

 

“Is food all you think about?” Adrien rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. 

 

“No!” The kwami huffed indignantly. “Sometimes I think about taking a nap after eating food.”

 

“I wish my life could be that simple.” He laughed lightly before tossing some cheese from the tray towards his floating companion. Plagg caught it in his mouth and the room became silent again. Adrien took the time to look back at his phone while Plagg was distracted with his snack.

 

* * *

 

_ Paris returns to peace around them, a peace brought on by her hard work and the wings of magical ladybugs. He’s sure that Hawkmoth is elsewhere cursing yet another defeat, but he’s too busy grinning over their victory to care. They share a fistbump, a ritual they honored from the start, and she gives him the most breathtaking smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have her love, but if he can manage to keep receiving her smiles then that should do well enough to fill the void in his heart. _

 

_ “My Lady, if you don’t have any plans tonight… maybe we could meet somewhere, just to talk?” Chat Noir has to use the momentum of the moment to his advantage. He’s not managed the courage to ask her such a thing in years, but timing was integral to these sorts of things. He tries not to die inside with every second that passes between the question leaving his lips and an answer leaving hers. So far, he’s not succeeding.  _

 

_ She scrunches her nose up in thought, her bespeckled mask wrinkling at the bridge. “I don’t have any plans tonight, but I’m not entirely sure that us meeting outside of work is really a good plan. The last time it wa--” Glossed lips still as her earrings begin to beep, informing them both that she has a matter of minutes before time is up and she transforms back into whoever she is when she’s not by his side. His best friend disguised as a stranger.  _

 

_ “Just think about it.” Chat jumps in before she can give him a clear no. “I do believe that the lovely lady is about to turn into a pumpkin, though. Flutter away, Bugaboo. I’ll be in the same spot, I hope that I’ll see you there.” He hopes he isn’t being too optimistic as he throws her a wink and then heads off on his way.  _

 

_ The clank of his pole hitting cement and moments later his boots hitting the rooftop allows him enough reprieve to remember how to breathe without the aid of her taking the oxygen out of his lungs one adoring sigh at a time. His back hits the brick wall and his eyes fall to a shut. Chat Noir hasn’t felt like this since he was fifteen years old, like a lovestricken kitten ready to lap up every ounce beauty that radiated from his partner in justice. At twenty he still can’t seem to stop begging for the dregs of her affection. _

 

_ “What if she doesn’t come?” He whispers to no one at all, pleading with the silence to guide him.  _

 

_ Adrien Agreste can make any bet he wants and be certain of victory. He was a born winner, born into a good family, born into a bright future, born into a stiflingly pristine world. Chat Noir doesn’t have Adrien’s luck or sway, all he has is good old fashioned belief in love. He doesn’t want her to come because of his money or his status, he wants her to come and sit with him because she wants him. He’s making a bet that lady luck herself is charmed enough to give him a moment of her time. _

 

_ The wind brushes through his hair and cat-like eyes scan the night sky. Parisian fall is in full swing and he can feel it making his bones as frosty as his nerves. He can endure it for a while, he’s willing to wait. Chat pushes away from the bricks and leans over the balcony banister. If he keeps his eye locked on the skyline then he knows he’ll drive himself insane from the anticipation of it all. The twinkling lights of the city of love are enough of a distraction for now. They’re like the lights of a flashing camera, bright and familiar. Familiarity is safe and he’s grateful that they can lure him into a sense of security. What ifs are dangerous in a city where the supervillain creates monsters from dark emotion. _

 

_ He is a superhero, he’s supposed to stay above that kind of darkness.  _

 

_ She lands behind him and her light destroys any shadowy doubts he might have had. Chat spins around to look at her, grinning from ear to ear. “M’lady.” He coos, lifting her gloved hand to his lips. “I’m glad that you made it.” _

 

_ “Let’s talk.” Ladybug speaks kindly, but he’s already bubbling up with dread. Those are two words that nobody ever wants to hear. _

 

_ “We’re already talking.” He laughs. Laughter is his greatest mask, it always has been and it always will be. “Have a seat.” His hand brushes the ledge just before he hops up to sit there as well. _

 

_ She nods and he wonders if she knows how torturous it is to watch her smile at him like that. She’s too kind to know the effect she has on him, she’s too focused to see the haze of his emotions that blur their every moment’s edge. Their pinkies brush as she sets her hand beside his and he feels a tingle unfurl down the length of his spine.  _

 

_ “Chaton,” Ladybug begins and he knows it’s about to be his end. There’s a careful tenderness in her tone, as if she’s struggling to decide how sweet may be too cruel. “My stance on this hasn’t changed. We have a duty that’s above this. Paris needs us to take our job seriously and we can’t be taking a risk like…” _

 

_ “Ladybug, please.” He doesn’t know why he cut her off, he doesn’t know why he’s rising to sit up straight, he doesn’t know why his eyes are starting to sting. The only thing he knows is that he can’t give up yet. “We don’t have to talk about. You know I think you’re the cat’s meow and that I…” Chat Noir’s voice cracks and he feels himself deflate. No puns or jokes will do. He’s run out of humor to hide the hurting. “Ladybug, I know that I can’t be alone in this feeling. After all these years, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen your eyes, I’ve seen your smiles. Please, I just need to hear you say it. Even if it’s only once.” _

 

_ He feels pathetic instantly. He wishes he could take it back. The last thing he wants is to make her feel guilty or to be manipulative. Ladybug deserves better than this groveling. Her ocean eyes are forgiving as they look at him, sympathetic and ebbing with a pain she’s doing her best to hide. He’s weak, but he knows now that he’s strong enough to inflict an unfair amount of pain. “You already know, it will only hurt us both if I let you hope and believe.” _

 

_ Chat Noir recoils, but it’s not her words that take fire on him, he finds himself staring down the barrel of her teary eyed gun. Ladybug is crying because of him and he feels nothing like a superhero. _

 

* * *

 

If Marinette heard the word “deadlines” one more time she was going to actually combust. November was when the stress of the fall/winter fashion weeks hit full swing. She had slaved away to get the opportunity to submit looks for consideration by _Givenchy_ . Marinette had interned for the company over the summer, a dream job turned nightmare when she realized that her designs weren’t ever going to get seen and she was just a glorified coffee fetcher. By the grace of god, or maybe an ounce of Ladybug’s luck rubbing off on her, she had left her sketchpad open on a coffee run and returned with an armful of cappuccinos and a once in a lifetime offer. 

 

Lucky as it was, that didn’t mean that the work wasn’t grooling. Expectations for an entry level designer were higher than the skyscrapers in New York City. She was set up for failure so that if she did actually manage to flourish they could make some kind of fairytale headline of her story. Although the industry was cutthroat at best and torturous at worst, she had no plans to be anything other than cordial and kind. She would take the unrealistic deadlines, she would take the unfair criticism, she would dance through all their hoops with smiles and gratitude. Kindness was the best way to kill the petty.

 

Alya had texted her at least twelve times and due to multiple issues at work, she was unable to respond to even one. The party started two hours ago and she would never forgive herself if she missed it. Alya and Nino had been there for her through thick and thin, no matter the timing. Ladybug duties took her away from them enough already, she didn’t need work to be doing the same.

 

Four rejected sketches and two long meetings about why her fabric choices wouldn’t work later, Marinette finally managed to leave the office. Her jacket was pulled over her shoulders to fight the Paris night air and he phone was pushed up to her ear. She didn’t usually like going anywhere in her work clothes, pencil skirts paired with bright blouses and practical pumps, but it was just Alya and Nino so she could probably just steal some pajamas from them after she got there. The beauty of true friendship; shared sweatpants. 

 

She pressed her phone to her ear as she rummaged through her purse for her keys. After a few rings, she was bumped to voicemail. “Hey, Alya! It’s just Marinette, I was calling to let you know that I’m just going to head over straight from work so I’ll be there soon. You probably won’t hear this message until after I leave your house, but I’m sending it so you can’t yell at me for not telling you when I wa on my way. Love you and see you soon.”

 

The warmth of her car was more than welcomed. Pencil skirts looked professional but did very little in the way of generating warmth and the sheer tights she wore beneath it were just as useless. Marinette turned her heater up and sunk into the driver’s seat. Blue eyes fell to a close as she collected her senses and tried to leave work’s emotions in the work parking lot. All of her disappointment, frustration, and defeat wouldn’t fit in at a happy gathering of friends. 

 

Cradled in the comfort of her only real possession, Marinette tried to convince herself that her failures weren’t due to anything she could control and that they didn’t make her any less qualified. She studied and slaved and made connections all across the Paris fashion industry to get her internship and she was putting out her best work. Her best was all she could offer and it had to be enough. Marinette couldn’t let the stress of work weaken her guard and her resolve. It was never predictable when the next attack to the city would occur and whether Marinette’s career was going well or not, Ladybug still had to have enough energy to swing into action and save the day. 

 

Chat Noir would be more than willing to pick up the slack if she started falling apart, but she didn’t want it to get to that point. They were supposed to be a team, not a give and take where one of them had to carry the slack. Eager as the kitty was, she didn’t want to take advantage of his willingness to please. 

 

Marinette’s mind stole back to the pages upon pages of words she’d read the night before. Maybe she was already taking advantage of him and he didn’t even know it. If her Chat Noir was even half as smitten as the one in  _ Bugaboo  _ then she was guilty of being more than just a little negligent of his feelings. It probably wasn’t helpful to anyone for her to take a fanwork to heart and treat it as concrete fact, but something about the way Adrien and Chat Noir were written left her with so many questions.  _ It felt so real. _

 

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki chimed to the left of her and pulled from her zoned out stupor. Marinette knew the way to Alya and Nino’s place by heart, she’d driven there with them at least fifty times in the last month.

 

She smiled and nodded softly. “Yeah, just letting my mind wander after a long day at work.” 

 

“Letting your mind wander to Chat Noir?” Tikki didn’t miss a beat.

 

Marinette flicked her head to look at the little kwami, taking her eyes off the road for half a second before remembering that she was still driving and frantically looking back out over the road. “It’s not like that.” She tried not to sound miserable, but her attempts were useless against Tikki and she knew it. “I think I’m just running on too little sleep so I’m not thinking rationally and the very last thing I consumed before sleeping with a whole lot of words about Chat Noir being miserable because of me. I’m trying not to dwell on it, sorry Tikki.”

 

“Don’t apologize, Marinette. You’re not in trouble, I’m just worried about you. You said yourself that it’s just writing and it’s not like Chat Noir himself wrote it. Cut yourself some slack.” The red kwami nestled against her cheek. “Go have fun and stop thinking about it for now. Next time you see Chat Noir you’ll forget you were ever worried.”

 

Tikki’s advice had never steered her in the wrong direction, so she didn’t hesitate to nod and really take the words to heart. Chat Noir wasn’t really sad, it was just this written version of him that was so desperately alone, and Adrien Agreste was not, and never would be, Chat Noir. With these things in mind, she relaxed her grip on the steering wheel and sighed away some of the tension in her chest. 

 

There were only three cars at Alya and Nino’s place, meaning it was just the couple themselves and one other guest. Marinette was relieved because she wasn’t exactly wanting to handle a crowd and she wanted to change out of these uncomfortable shoes as soon as possible. She slipped out of her car, trying at least three times to get the door to latch shut before groaning, pushing all her weight against the door, and then locking it manually. She’d heard Alya give an entire rant about how unsafe the car was at least four times in the last two months, but she wanted to fully pay it off before getting something new. 

 

She didn’t wait until she was inside to take off her shoes, opting to carry them in one hand while holding her purse in the other. Marinette stood on the porch trying to decide which hand would be better to knock with for a full five minutes before a voice spoke behind her and nearly shocked her soul right out of her body. 

 

“I can knock if you need me to, Mari.” The voice was unmistakably Adrien’s. 

 

She felt her knees wobble and her vision blur. Of all the things that she should have absolutely expected to happen tonight, this one should have been a no brainer. She wasn’t sure if she should blame her long night of reading or her long day of working, but blame or no blame she still hadn’t accounted for him being there tonight. If she turned around and saw his beautiful green eyes she knew she would be thrust back into stories of how sad Ladybug had made them look. Marinette now had a mental bone to pick with  _ UnChatMalchanceux. _

 

“O-Oh! Adrien! That’s so uh… That’s so nice of you. My hands are kind of uh full and--” She swung her frame around to face him, trying to be polite, but just as she turned her leaned forwards to reach for the door around her and their heads collided. “Ow! OH!!” Her hands shot up to cradle her head and she got a shoe heel jabbed into her cheek bone. “Sorry!”

 

Adrien groaned, but Marinette’s vision was still to hazy to tell if he was holding his head as well. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have moved so suddenly. Are you alright, Marinette?” 

 

“Yeah, I--” She choked on her own voice as she felt the warmth of his hand against her forehead, checking to see if her skin was starting to become tender and bruise. 

 

“There’s no mark yet, but let’s be sure we get some ice on it.” Adrien brushed his fingers gently along her skin. “Now let me get that door before we both get a concussion, okay?” 

 

Her blue eyes come finally come to focus just in time to see him grin and wink. Marinette wasn’t sure if she died and gone to Heaven, but if she hadn’t then she was going to combust from the rising heat at any given second. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” She coughed awkwardly and stepped to the side. 

 

“Your shirt looks nice.” Adrien smiled down at her while they waited for the door to open. “Red’s a nice color on you.”

 

She mentally noted that it was a good thing he liked her in red because her face had to near the same color as her blouse. “Oh, ah, thank you! You look, um, you look nice too.” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck and laughed uncomfortably. “I mean, you always look nice, though. That’s kind of your job.”

 

He opened his mouth to respond but Nino opened the door and saved them from their awkward interaction. She would have to thank him for that later. 

 

“Hey, dudes! I’m glad you made it. Alya was starting so say you weren’t going to come.” Nino grinned and erased the tension from the air.

 

“Not true! I was just saying that I was worried they wouldn’t show up. Those are two  **entirely** different sentiments!” Alya’s voice boomed from somewhere in the house and everyone fell into comfortable laughter. 

 

Despite her concerns at the door, the minute they were inside she was too at ease to be bothered to think about the fictional Adrien. She sat to his left, changed out of her skirt and into some borrowed sweats, and spent the whole night smiling and laughing. No matter how closely the story fell to her real life, at the end of the day it was still just a story. Adrien Agreste was her friend, not words on a page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop by my [Tumblr](https://luckbeabugaboo.tumblr.com) if you want to leave a prompt or send an ask or even if you just want to hit up my DMs!


	3. Guydline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no good excuse for how long this took. Oof.

_ LaPetiteLadybug: Your writing is beautiful, personal even. You seem to have very real experience with feelings of longing. But, I'm curious, why do you think he's so lonely? Doesn't he always seem happy in press conferences and in photos? Ladybug wouldn't want him to be this miserable. The thing that makes me the saddest is that despite how he hurts, the thing that pushes him over the edge is when he sees her hurting. He’s so… gentle. Thank you for this update and I look forward to what’s coming next. <3 L.B. _

 

She had submitted he comment the moment she finished the chapter, a frown on her faintly glossed lips and a furrow in her brow. Marinette had been called up for a meeting and then told to wait about an hour ago. Reading the  _ Bugaboo  _ update was supposed to keep her distracted so she wouldn’t be cranky over how little her boss cared about her time but it had only managed to make her feel guilty and conflicted. This fanfiction was going to be the death of her, she knew it, but she still couldn’t bring herself to stop reading it.

 

Not even a full ten minutes after tabbing away and checking over Alya’s blog, Marinette’s phone buzzed and she was met with a little notification box. 

 

_ UnChatMalchanceux  _ _ has replied to your comment on Chapter 11 of Bugaboo: _

 

_ More personal than you might know, M'lady. I agree that Ladybug wouldn't want him to be miserable and I also agree to an extent that he often seems [read more] _

 

Blue eyes snapped from left to right and then without another second of hesitation, she tapped to read.

 

_ More personal than you might know, M'lady. I agree that Ladybug wouldn't want him to be miserable and I also agree to an extent that he often seems happy in media. With a bias narrator it's easy to view Ladybug as brushing him off as cruel, but that's far from the truth. Chat Noir is sad, but it's not because Ladybug doesn't want him back, it's because he feels he's not good for her even if she did. Ladybug is too kind, too strong, too… miraculous. He understands that, he just wishes he didn't have to. Thank you for your comments, they make me feel a little luckier each and every time.   _

 

Marinette stared at the author's response for a few very long minutes. She hadn't expected him to reply and she really hadn't expected it to be so hallowing. The idea that anyone could put her on a pedestal so high was unnerving on its own, but to picture that person as her dearest friend and partner was dizzying. 

 

“M’lady?” She murmured incredulously. 

 

While she hadn’t exactly been secretive about her identity in her comments, she wasn’t quite sure how to react to the author playing along. They fell into this banter so naturally that she couldn’t help but hear Chat’s voice as she read. She tapped her screen to ready a reply, a million burning words wanting to fly from her fingers, but before she could get more than two letters in she as pulled back to reality by the walls around her trembling. 

 

A loud  **crash** was followed by a dissonant mess of screams. This was an awful time for an akuma attack, she was sure that the second she got out of her seat would be when her boss suddenly became available to talk about her mock-ups, but the city’s safety came above her job security. Marinette looked around the reception room to confirm that it was empty and then she slipped into the hall and pressed her back to the wall. 

 

“Tikki, spots on!” The kwami flew from her purse and in a matter of seconds Marinette became Ladybug.

 

Covered in red from head to toe, the superheroine ran from the building to try and get a look at the commotion. It didn’t take her long to locate the exact source of the crash. An entire building had been crushed under a big black rectangle. Blue eyes blinked as she tried to decide what exactly this akuma’s power was. Since the actual victim wasn’t anywhere in sight, she couldn’t make an educated enough guess. Her yo-yo was thrown out to wrap around a light post and she swung up and onto a nearby roof. 

 

From a higher viewpoint, she could see that a number of shops had also been smashed by large black rectangular boxes. Ladybug filed that knowledge away for later and prioritized hunting down the person responsible. Another box appeared in a mess of static and Ladybug ran fast to get there before anyone could end up beneath it. She could hear the panic before she could see it.

 

“Where the fuck is Ladybug? Shouldn’t she be here by now?” An unfamiliar female voice shouted.

 

“Watch your mouth! This is a public place!” The akuma countered and then silence settled in, an eerie silence to say the least.

 

Ladybug ran, leaping from roof to roof to close up the distance.  What she saw when she got there was a bunch of people with floating rectangles over their mouths, silenced, and the akuma standing in the center of them. He wore a suit with an overextended collar, the outfit’s coloring was reminiscent of SMPTE color bars, blocked in even portions across his torso. His face was made of static, the only thing breaking up the constant shift of grey, black, and white dots were a pair of small screens that served as eyes. He held a remote in his hands, likely to be his weapon.

 

“Ladybug!” He turned sharply to face her and lifted his remote. “I am Guydline. Heroes like you promote violent behaviors in young children and have to be taken off the air! Hand over your Miraculous!” 

 

Her lips parted to counter with something witty, but he pointed his universal controller at her and she had to flip out of the way of the black rectangles that were soon hurtling towards her. “Censor bars!” She gasped out loud as she realized just what was going on here. Ladybug didn’t know what had caused his sudden desire to lower Paris’ rating, but she did know without a doubt that getting her hands on his remote would put an end to the needless filtering. 

 

“Stand still!” Guydline groused, trying to keep up with her running feet.

 

There was no way that she was going to be able to get close to him when he was able to shoot from a distance like that, or at least not on her own. She flicked her eyes upwards to scan for her partner, but he seemed to be taking his dear sweet time. “You’re wrong about heroes. We don’t promote violence, he promote peace. It’s villains like Hawkmoth who are the promoters of violence and danger.”

 

“That’s not true!” He yelled, suddenly charging towards her. “When children watch you, Ladybug, they then try to do exactly as you do! They jump from buildings, they try to face people who are much bigger and stronger, they think that just because you can face anything that they can too! You are a danger and when Hawkmoth has your Miraculous you won’t be able to continue putting innocent children at risk.” 

 

She began to spin her yo-yo, creating a barrier between herself and the seemingly endless supply of censor bars. Her back met the brick of a wall and she panicked. Guydline was growing closer and closer, she was getting ready to make a hasty exit when Chat Noir dropped in and wrapped an arm around her waist.

 

“Ladybug will be back after these short messages.” He grinned before extending his staff and landing them on the roof of the building she had previously been trapped against. 

 

Ladybug quickly stepped out of his grasp. “Took you long enough. Do you have any idea what caused this?”

 

Chat leaned against his staff. “I don’t. But I do know that the first building he took out was the public broadcasting station. Seems like he really woke up on the wrong channel today.”

 

“I think akuma is in his remote. But I don’t know how we’re-- Look out!” Static formed above them and solidified into another censor bar. She gathered her partner into her arms and threw her yo-yo, grappling onto something distant and swinging them onto the next roof over. “That was close.”

 

“Not too close, though.” Chat flashed her a cheshire smile, a green eyed wink, and an irritating amount of charm. Looking at him pressed into her side like this, she found it absolutely impossible to believe that this man could be even marginally forlorn over their interactions. 

 

“Stay focused.” She let go and scanned the area again. She was all out of bright ideas so it was time to get a little bit of help. “Lucky charm!” 

 

Light danced around her yo-yo as she threw it and her powers summoned her a pack of AA batteries. They landed in her hand and left her even more perplexed. 

 

“Feline a little drained, M’lady?” He leaned over her shoulder to inspect the items. 

 

“That’s it!” Ladybug smiled. “Drained! Television remotes are always running out of battery power. We need to get him to throw out a lot of censor bars.”

 

“You’ve got it, Ladybug!” Chat Noir rolled his shoulders. “I didn’t know you were a fan of unrated movies.”

 

Blue eyes rolled, but she did laugh lightly. It was hard to avoid smiling at Chat Noir’s boundless energy. Her plan was a loose one, but if she’d learned anything in her years of fighting akumas it was that sometimes the messiest and least logical options were the most effective. She and Chat shared a nod and then she jumped back into the fight. Not even a full second after she’d hit the ground she was instantly being bombarded with attacks. She set one battery on the ground, bait of sorts, as Chat Noir started to swing at the censor bars like baseballs. Ladybug caught him out of the corner of her eye, his body positioned between her and Guydline. There was something so protective about his stance. Her chest tightened as a passage from  _ Bugaboo _ interrupted her thoughts. 

 

“You dozing off on me, Ladybug? This isn’t really the time for a catnap, snuggle bug.” She didn’t have to see Chat Noir’s face to know he was grinning like a fool. 

 

“In your dreams, chaton.” She popped out from behind him and began throwing her yo-yo out to try and fish for the remote. 

 

They were back to back, synchronized against the enemy. Each time she would rise to attack he’d cover her back, deflecting the censors with relative ease. In the comfort of this algorithm, all they needed to do was keep going until Guydline’s remote ran out of power. It was tedious, but it was the only shot they had. 

 

“Hey, Ladybug…” Chat Noir sounded a bit nervous, but Ladybug was busy so she didn’t turn back to look at him. “Have you… read anything interesting lately.”

 

She stilled. Her yo-yo snapping back and barely missing her. Why did he care what she was reading? Was it because he was the one who had written it? Maybe he was just talking about books and trying to make small talk. This was literally the worst time ever for small talk. She turned to look at him, but before she could actually say anything she was nailed square in the jaw by a censor bar. It didn’t cause her any immediate pain, but it did effectively make it impossible for her to speak. Horror filled both of their eyes as it collectively dawned on them that this was going to complicate things. The black bar stayed in front of her lips, mocking her silently. 

 

“Cat got your tongue, Ladybug?” Guydline called out in a needlessly triumphant tone. 

 

Chat Noir scowled. “That’s not how that joke is supposed to work. Paw-sitively horrible execution.”

 

Ladybug lifted her arms to express her exasperation, but Guydline was back to his assault quickly. Chat Noir pulled her out of the way and they began to run again, staying stationary was too risky. But as it would turn out, running without a destination was just as bad. They had ran themselves into a corner. Despite her partner's reassuring smile towards her, Ladybug couldn’t have been more annoyed by this situation if she tried. 

 

They turned around, backs inches from the brick wall of a building. Nothing was being fired, though. Ladybug looked around, her eyes landing on Guydline a few paces behind them, bent over to pick up one of the fallen batteries. This was like something out of a zany children’s cartoon, the logic was ridiculous. She wasn’t about to argue with it, though. Throwing her yo-yo out to grapple, she swung for the defenseless akumatized man and knocked the remote right out of his hands. 

 

She held the item in her hand, waving it triumphantly in the air. She knew that they couldn’t see it through the censor over her lips, but she was smiling. Chat Noir slid up to keep an eye on Guyline as she broke the remote and set the akuma free. The black butterfly flew out into the air. An expectant glance was thrown to her partner. He blinked back at her a few times.

 

God, he was hopeless. She gestured to the bar over her mouth and then towards the akuma flitting away.

 

“Ooooh, cat got your tongue, M’lady?” He grinned. Guydline rolled his eyes along with Ladybug, but sighing. “Cataclysm!” He finally got the hint.

 

The black bar dissolved. “It’s time to de-evilize!” She smiled as she swung her yo yo toward the butterfly as it was fluttering away. It opened revealing the inside glowing white strong like the sunlight. Moments after the akuma was in it’s encloser purifying all evil inside it. Once set free again, the beautiful white butterfly flitted off into the skyline. “Bye-bye, little butterfly.”

 

“Pound it.” The heroes spoke in unison, taking part in their ritual fistbump.

 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Ladybug threw the batteries up into the air and watched as all the buildings were restored and all the bars were erased. Paris is just like new.

 

“Where am I?” A voice came from behind them.

 

Ladybug turned around to look at the man. He was in his forties at least, grey creeping from the roots of his hairline, and dressed in casual attire. “You were akumatized. But you’re safe now.” She assured lightly.

 

“I was akumatized?!” Horrified with himself, the man looked like he was going to be sick. “I’m so sorry. I just… I just wanted television shows to be more careful about what they show. I… My daughter is only eight years old and she came to me to ask all these questions about things she shouldn’t have a clue about. Things she heard at school or on tv. I’m just not ready for her to grow up yet.”

 

She nodded softly and pat his shoulder. “Children grow up so fast, and it’s especially hard when the world expects them to know more at younger and younger ages. If you want your daughter to learn things from you instead of from her peers and television then you need to be proactive. Sit her down and talk with her.”

 

“Sometimes censoring everything your kid sees and hears is worse for them than just talking to them about what is right and wrong. You have to trust that as she gets older you’ve given her the tools she needs to make good choices, even when she’s not where you can directly watch over her.” Chat Noir chimed in lightly. 

 

“How mature and fatherly sounding of you, Chat.” She laughed a bit as she helped the man who was once Guydline back onto his feet. 

 

“I’m not ready for any litters yet, M’lady, but I’ll be sure to let you know if that changes.” His wink made her eyes rolls, but she smiled nonetheless.

 

“Alright, tom cat, I’ve got to get going,” Her earrings beeped for emphasis. “Make sure he gets home safe.”

 

“Anything for you.” He saluted.

 

And with that, she swung out of the action. She knew she was going to be in heaps of trouble if she didn’t make it back to the office before everyone else left the akuma lockdown. She landed gracefully on the roof and detransformed. 

 

“You froze up back there, is everything okay?” Tikki asked the moment she had the chance.

 

“I just… wasn’t expecting that question.” Marinette admitted as she made her way down the fire escape. “Why would he care what I’ve read recently?” 

 

“He’s Chat Noir, I’m sure he was just trying to make light conversation. He’s always doing that.” Tikki assured as she settled back into Marinette’s purse.

 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m probably just being paranoid…” Marinette hummed as she made it to the bottom of the stairs. She needed to get out of her Ladybug state of mind and back into her aspiring fashion designer’s head space. 

 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Lenore's voice was crisp and cold like a winter breeze. Marinette had to fight the shiver that ran up her spine. “You’re late.” 

 

“Yes, I’m sorry. I heard a sound outside, went to check that everything was alright, and ended up getting caught in the fray. After Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up I did my best to try and get here on time.” Marinette bowed her head. This was the downside of being Ladybug. There was no good or logical explanation for why she couldn’t have been in her seat. “I know that punctuality is important to Mr.  Clouzot.” She didn't speak it as such, but she meant that sarcastically.

 

“Well, be sure you inform him personally that you are aware of the importance and decided to blow it off anyhow.” Lenore looked to the door. “He’s waiting for you.”

 

“Ah, of course.” Marinette dipped her head, shifting in her shoes before making her way to the door. She hoped this was good news, she really couldn’t handle another hit to her pride today.

 

* * *

 

_ It’s not lack of sleep or his longing that creates her silhouette on his balcony. She is truly there, flesh, blood, bluebell eyes, and a dappled red suit.The image of Ladybug seated on this stone railing, her knees draw up to her chest and her eyes cast out to the glittering cityscape, is enough to make him surrender all the oxygen in his lungs. He hesitates, afraid to approach her. Mirages tend to fade the closer you get and he’s not sure he can handle another dose of disappointment this late into the night.  _

 

_ She turns to look at him and offers up a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t mean to bother you.”  _

 

_ “A-Ah, No, M’l-- Ladybug! It’s no trouble at all.” He steps out of the doorway and shivers in the cool night air. “Is something troubling you?” _

 

_ She laughs, a sweet and sad sound that makes his heart tighten. “I guess you could say that.” Ladybug slides her legs off the banister, letting them dangle. “I didn’t want to burden anyone with it, but, I knew that maybe if I sat here... “ She searches his face, her mind impossible to understand but screaming out for him to try. “You might come out and talk with me for a while.” _

 

_ Adrien tries his best to hide the heat rising to his cheeks. Ladybug could have gone to anybody in Paris, but in her time of turmoil, she came to him. A part of him is delighted, but another piece of his heart is burning with guilt. Why Adrien? Why not Chat Noir? He fixes his best smile to his lips and steps closer. “You can come talk to me any time, Ladybug.” _

 

_ Her gaze returns to the Parisian skyline, the city’s glow painting swirls in her eyes. Glossy lips part but it takes her a moment to form words with them. He’s only ever seen her this hesitant once in their many years of fighting side by side. This is a side she must consider too soft for Chat Noir, a side that he knows he isn’t meant to see. “Have you ever felt out of place in your own skin?” _

 

_ He’s taken aback, but he nods. “All the time.” The confession stings. He knows how fake it sounds when the most admired super model in Paris complains, but for some strange reason, he feels like Ladybug just might understand. _

 

_ “I want to be the person that all of France believes I am. But I often feel like no such person could possibly exist. I’m not some unshakable, undefeatable force. I make mistakes too.” She turns away from him, her eyes staring out at the night and searching for something among the twinkling lights. “I hate knowing that beneath this mask, I’d just disappoint everybody.” _

 

_ At a loss for words, he studies  her in profile and tries not to feel guilty. Had he made her feel this way? Had Chat Noir expected too much from her and in result pushed her into the arms of someone else? “I don’t think so. I don’t think you’d disappoint anyone at all. Ladybug, it’s okay to be human. It’s okay to want things that fall outside your job description or to do things sometimes that aren’t exactly ideal. You may be the savior of France, but if you’re busy saving everybody else then who is going to save you?” _

 

_ “Someone kind.” She whispers. He wonders if her sad smile means she doesn’t know anyone kind enough or if maybe, just maybe, her smile is in pity for whomever she considers that kind. Ladybug turns to face him again, her eyes glassy but her lips quirking at the corners. “Thank you, Adrien. I really needed to hear that.” _

 

_ His cheeks are instantly the color of her suit and he thinks he may just melt from the inside out. “You’re always welcome on my balcony, buga-- Ladybug.” He moves a hand to scoop up hers and offer a kiss, but stops himself short when he realizes just how dangerous that could be.  _

 

_ Ladybug’s smile finally reaches her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Adrien.” She swings away into the skyline before he can return her sweet goodbye.  _

 

_ He should be happy, but all he can manage is a heavy heart at the thought that these doubts were something she didn’t feel safe sharing with her partner. These insecurities and candid words should have been given to Chat Noir, her right hand man, not Adrien Agreste the model she barely knew. After all these years, it seems he still doesn’t know a single thing about what she needs from him.  _

 

_ “How useless.” He murmurs to no one in particular. _

 

* * *

 

Adrien brushed his fingers through his hair, a sigh drooping from his lips. His father was a master of overbooking, but eight photoshoots and five interviews in one day was something he didn’t have enough stamina to handle out of costume. Usually weekdays weren’t  this miserable. He wasn’t sure if he’d done something to upset the designer or it maybe it was just a symptom of his father’s stress. Either way, it had been hell to sneak out and help Ladybug with Guydline. Braving hell for Ladybug wasn’t a problem, he’d do it time and time again if she asked, but there was a heavy exhaustion clinging to his bones and he had to admit that maybe he had overdone it this time around.

 

He sunk into his chair, his head leaning back and his spine collapsing on itself. There were no cameras dictating him and there was no battle to be fought. For a few beautiful seconds, Adrien did absolutely nothing and basked in how novel the feeling was. Twenty was too young to be this tired. He felt so trapped in his lifestyle, trapped by the walls of a fashion empire he had no desire to reign over. The only issue was that he didn’t really know how to break free. If he said he didn’t want the company or that he was tired of modeling then he would be viewed as ungrateful for his father’s hard work, but pretending to want this was getting hard. A model’s smile only looked real on camera, it was hard to tell these silent lies without getting caught.

 

The phone buzzed beside him and he jolted up straight. Bold letters read **Gabriel Agreste** and dread settled in his stomach. If this was about him leaving the photoshoot early he was going to have to make up some kind of excuse that sounded half reasonable and he was frankly too tired to whip up something authentic. He hit the green, making sure to answer before the third ring so he wouldn’t be bombarded with scolding for taking so long. 

 

“Father.” He greeted as evenly as possible, hoping his exhaustion wasn’t too obvious. 

 

“Adrien,” The stone cold wall of indifference that Adrien had grown accustomed to over the years was all the colored Gabriel’s tone. He didn’t seem upset, just disimpassioned. “Have you left your last appointment yet? I have something important to discuss and need you to arrive here on time this evening.”

 

Adrien hadn’t lived with Gabriel for nearly three years, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t expected at the Agreste family mansion for dinner five nights a week. A dinner he usually ended up eating alone; it was as if he’d never left in the first place. “I haven’t left just yet, I was getting changed and then I was going to head over.”

 

“Good, good. Try not to dautle.” His father’s voice was crisp, all business. 

 

“Of course, Father. I’ll hurry.” He was beyond feeling bitter. He had spent his entire teenage life weighed with bitterness and doubt, after so long he’d learned it was easier just to love his father despite his flaws and hold hope that one day he would find it easier to do so.

 

His father hummed in acknowledgement. “I look forward to seeing you, Adrien.”

 

“I love you.” Adrien said lightly, already pulling on his jacket. He didn’t want to be in a rush to go eat dinner by himself in an oversized room, wishing he’d never come. But no matter how many times his father let him down, Adrien couldn’t withhold hope that the next time would be different.

 

“I love you too.” The line went dead only a second later.

 

Keys in hand, Adrien left his dressing room. He rehearsed in his mind just what he would say to stop his father from chastising him too heavily. It wasn’t exactly the most brave or admirable story, but he didn’t have a lot of time to come up with something grand. 

 

“You don’t have to go, you know.” Plagg pointed out from his shirt pocket. “You have enough stress on your plate without having to put up with him. We should just go home and eat some cheese. You can reread that comment from Ladybug again and everything will be back to normal.”

 

“I appreciate your concern, Plagg, but he’s my father. I don’t actually have a choice in this. He took the time to call and that means that it’s something honestly important to him. He missed a lot of things that were important to me, I’m not going to do the same…” Adrien hated the miserable sound of his own voice as he settled into his car. Most inmates avoided driving back to the jailhouse after their sentence ended, but Adrien couldn’t shake the obligations that pulled him back to the Agreste mansion time and time again.

 

Plagg made a sound that rested some place between a groan of annoyance and a sympathetic hum as Adrien shifted gears and sent the car down the street. Trepidation pumped through his veins, suffocating him from the inside out. He wished he had enough rebellion in his bones to just turn the car around and go home. He wished he didn’t feel guilty knowing his reclusive father rarely saw another kind face. He wished he didn’t love his father enough to let his reservations take a backseat. More than anything else though, he wished his mother would have stayed long enough to teach them both how to cope with her exit. 

 

His family was broken already, the last thing he wanted was to cause another fracture. He was willing to carry the weight of all his father’s transgressions if it meant holding onto what his mother would have wanted. Adrien would wait forever for Gabriel’s approval, dwindling sense of self and longing for something better wouldn’t stop him. 

 

“Kid, you okay?” Plagg sliced into the tension with razor sharp words. 

 

Adrien flinched at the steering wheel. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Despite being entirely unconvinced, Plagg dropped the topic and let Adrien drive. The silence didn’t help him in the slightest, but he didn’t blame Plagg for the brooding feeling. It had been an uphill battle for both of them these past six years to learn when it was best to choose uncomfortable silence over agonising conversation. Adrien wondered sometimes if it was the dreadful depths of his suppressed misery that brought the kwami of destruction into his life. Plagg ruined everything he touched, but Adrien had been doing that since long before he adopted Cataclysm.

 

The massive gate of his childhood home opened  the moment he pulled up, no need to let them know he had arrived. He was sure his father was sitting by the monitors watching like a hawk. Plagg flew back into Adrien’s pocket, giving him a meaningful look before disappearing into the fabric. Fortifying the fortress around his heart, Adrien stepped out of the car and walked to the door. With each step he felt like he was shaving off a year of his life, transported back to a different time. 

 

After many, many steps, he found himself in a secure state of mind. He remembered a time when his father sat beside him at the piano and gave him a small smile, his mother humming along at his opposite side. Adrien latched onto the memory for dear life, sinking his claws into it and anchoring himself into that place. Gabriel Agreste hadn’t always been so hard to face and Adrien wanted to believe that some shred of his father’s kindness was left. His mother hadn’t packed all of it in her bags when she disappeared; as far as Adrien knew she hadn’t even bothered to pack in the first place.

 

“Adrien,” Nathalie greeted him crisply. There was something familiar and almost caring in her blue eyes. It would be a vast overstatement to say that the stark woman had become like a mother to him, but it would be a bold faced lie to say she hadn’t become a source of maternal stability. “Mr. Agreste is waiting for you in the dining room.”

 

He wanted to say ‘Is he really in there?’, but what he really said was, “Thank you, Nathalie.”

 

Adrien rested his hands on the double doors that lead into the dining hall. He braced himself for disappointment, almost entirely sure that he’d be eating alone, and then walked inside. To his instant surprise, Gabriel Agreste sat at the far end of the table, phone in hand. He met Adrien’s glance with an unreadable pair of blue eyes. 

 

“Adrien.” Gabriel didn’t stand up, he simply gave a nod of his head and sweep of his arm to indicate where he would like his son to sit. 

 

“Father.” Adrien was unable to rebel. His muscles moved with their own will, carrying him to his father’s right side. “What was it that you wanted to discuss?” He asked once he had settled into his seat. 

 

“You’re a smart boy, I’m sure you know exactly what I consider pressing.” Food it placed in front of both of them, but his father’s eyes never moved to glance at those serving it or the plates themselves. His gaze was reserved and focused. Adrien felt fourteen, an awful feeling really, and wondered if maybe it was intense enough to warrant a butterfly in his heart.

 

“I heard you fired one of the lead designers for fashion week and were looking for someone younger with a more fresh vision. I can put out feelers for that.” His flat tone hinted of his awareness, but if his father wanted him to present some kind of confession then this was going to be a very long and awkward meal. 

 

“You disappeared again, Adrien.” His father’s voice was stern. He didn’t raise the volume, opting to go for a low hiss instead. It’s nothing Adrien hadn’t heard a million times over and he was sure it would be the only consistent thing about his father until they both died. “You can’t keep vanishing. We have contracts that are signed and it looks bad for you to just walk out in the middle of shoots. You have a bright and shining future and I want nothing more than for you to succeed, but we both know that your name isn’t enough to excuse erratic behavior like this.”

 

“There was an akuma! I just wanted to help.” Adrien wasn’t like his father, he wasn’t going to mask his frustrations with petty wording and hushed chiding. No. Adrien raised his voice and let his eyes narrow. “The studio was nearly crushed by Guydline today. If I hadn’t stepped out then it was very likely I could have been very badly hurt.”

 

“You know that I don’t like you anywhere near those fights. You aren’t a superhero, Adrien. You’re a super _ model.  _ You’re not built to hold the weight of Paris on your shoulders. If you got hurt in one of those messy fights I would never forgive myself for not being there. You have to stay with the staff I assign you because we both know that Paris is far from the safest place in the world. I want to protect you, Adrien. You are the most important thing in my life and I would be devastated if I lost you.” Gabriel’s hand moved to rest over his son’s, a frown fixed on his lips. 

 

Despite the pretty words of affection, Adrien wasn’t moved by his father’s speech. He wanted to believe it was genuine, but he hardly knew a genuine thing with the name  _ Gabriel  _ emblazoned on it. “You’re not in charge of what I feel, father. You can’t just order me to check my compassion at the door. It’s not your place or your right.” Adrien pulled his hand away and began to eat the salad, something to keep his mouth and mind busy enough to keep him out of trouble. 

 

The weight of Gabriel’s wide eyes was making Adrien’s chest ache. He couldn’t carry his father’s disappointment along with the unending grief that hung in the air over the Agreste manor. Silence stagnated between them, the faint sound of utensils on porcelain being the only thing that dared tread the tenuous line of tension. 

 

“You know that I prioritize your safety, don’t you?” Gabriel finally asked after a long pause. “I’m not trying to tell you to stop being kind and being who you are, Adrien. I am just saying that I would not survive if an akuma were to take you from me.”

 

The sincerity was heartrending. Adrien didn’t dare to look up, he wasn’t brave enough to see the heartbreak in his father’s eyes. “Thank you for dinner and for your concern. I need to go before it gets too late, I have a few early morning interviews.”

 

The chair squeaked in protest as he got to his feet, the house itself begging him not to leave. He gave his father a small nod and then started towards the door. 

 

“Adrien,” Gabriel’s voice was loud enough to carry through the room, but never loud enough to break his illusion of control. “You are always welcome to stay here. Your room is still yours to claim.”

 

“Goodnight, father.” Was all he could managed to choke out as he made his leave. He knew that if he stayed even a second longer, he would never be able to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert that usual plug for my [tumblr](luckbeabugaboo.tumblr.com) here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been AGES. My personal life has been very messy and unpleasant for the last while and it took a lot for me to get back into the swing of creating in the face of deep loss. But! I'm back! Hopefully with a bit more consistency?

He needed a break. It was so hard to find a place where his father’s voice couldn’t reach him, a place where he was free to breathe without the pressure of his father’s expectations smothering his lungs. Hours upon hours of harsh criticism pushed him out of his father’s house the moment he had the chance, but even in his own home he wan’t free of the pressures. The funds that pay his rent and kept food on his table were funds given to him by working for his father’s company. He earned them, but there was the ever present reminder that without his father he would have nothing, a reminder Gabriel wasn’t afraid to employ himself if he was frustrated enough.

 

The only way to escape Gabriel Agreste was to stop being Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir didn’t have to impress his father, he didn’t have to take flawless pictures, he didn’t have to sit through boring press conferences. The only thing Chat Noir had to do was save the day, and when there was no danger lurking in the streets, that meant he was free to do whatever it was he pleased.

 

Chat Noir leapt from roof to roof, enjoying the rush of the cool night air tickling his skin. He had no true destination in mind, he just danced through the skies, letting the wind be his guide. There was nothing going through his mind, nothing rooting him or holding him down. He left Adrien’s concerns in his bedroom and kept himself mobile so he wouldn’t have to stop and remember that he had ones of his own. Escapism didn’t work if the destination was just as flawed and difficult as where he’d begun.

 

At fourteen it was much simpler. Chat Noir was still new and his schoolboy crush on Ladybug hadn’t become something much larger. He was too young to realize the depth of this proverbial second life. After years of fighting side by side with the only woman he’d ever love, it began to dawn on him that there was no such thing as an escape. Adrien could become Chat Noir, but then he had to face rejection and feelings of loneliness. Chat Noir could return to being Adrien, but then he’d have to return to the gilded cage of his lifestyle. There was no winning.

 

His feet touched the ground and he closed his eyes. The place he landed felt safe enough that he could catch his breath.

 

“Chat Noir?” Marinette Dupain-Cheng asked incredulously.

 

His eyes snapped open and moved fast to focus on her. She was wearing a big sweater and leggings, clearly prepared for bed, with a mug of something steaming hot in her hands. The word snuggly wasn’t quite enough to encompass how truly cozy she looked. “Hey there, Princess.” Chat Noir purred out, a grin on his lips. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in, I felt the pull of your fuzzy slippers from across the city.”

 

She laughed, her head shaking and her eyes lighting up. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that softened his frustration, but he wasn’t about to complain. She took a sip of her drink and then set it down on the ledge beside her. “Is something bothering you? You didn’t get into an argument with Ladybug did you?”

 

“What? Never! My Lady and I are like this.” He crossed his fingers to offer her a visual of what ‘this’ meant. “I had a real buzz kill of an evening and decided to go for a stroll.”

 

“And what brought you here?” Marinette smiled, curiosity gleaming in those eyes of hers.

 

Chat felt his lips curl into a playful sort of grin. “Sad kittens always go to their source of food when they’re in a bad mood.”

 

He could feel the roll of her eyes without even having to glance down at her. “So I’m guessing that means you want a croissant?”

 

He leaned in, catching the scent of honeysuckle and red berries. Sweet and simple, like her smile, but strangely reminiscent of someone more bold than his princess. “Maybe I’m just trying to find an excuse to talk to a pretty girl on a lonely night.”

 

Marinette shoved at his shoulder, a laugh on her lips. She melted the frosty unease from dinner like a sunbeam on a lazy spring afternoon. There was a breeziness about her smile as she leaned against the railing and gazed up through thick eyelashes. “I’m not going to say no to the company of my favorite superhero, but I’m also not going to wooed by such a silly line.”

 

“Silly? I’ll have you know that I spent a solid ten minutes crafting that turn of phrase, princess. Royalty sure does have high standards.” He hopped up to sit on the rail, Paris lights behind him and kindness beside him. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night? Last time I heard you were interning at some swanky design studio, don’t fashion geniuses need beauty sleep?”

 

The sun set in her eyes, her lips falling to a flat line. He wished he could take the question back and restore the warmth he’d stolen away. Marinette wasn’t made for such a miserable expression. “They let me go this afternoon. If I remember right, the words they used to describe my designs were ‘trite’ and ‘barely worthy of the title vapid’.” She looked down, focusing on her feet instead of his face. “Just when I thought I was getting my foot in the door, just when I thought I was getting my first big break since I was fourteen… It just… stops.”

 

“Can I see them?” He didn’t hesitate a beat. “I’m not the most fashion furrrward, but they do call the runway a catwalk, so I think that leaves me at least a little bit qualified to judge.” Chat Noir met her hesitant glance up with a wink and found himself loving the red that crept onto her cheeks.

 

“You have to promise not to laugh and you also have to promise not to be a total kiss ass.” Marinette pushed off the rails with a cute crinkle along her nose.

 

“I would never!” Feigned indignation was emphasized with a sweeping gesture of his arm. “But really, I want to give you nothing but my honesty. Cat’s honor.”

 

She smiled, her reservations seemingly defused. Chat watched her from his perch, taking in the entirety of her balcony as she stepped inside and disappeared behind the curtain. Her apartment’s terrace wasn’t as spacious as the one at her parent’s bakery, the one that help so many memories, but it was still definitely hers. There were star-shaped lights lining the doorway and coiled around the iron rails. A little white table sat beside an oversize pink polka dot chair that she definitely upholstered herself, the stitching so clean it couldn’t have been anyone else. His favorite decoration had to be the little paw print shaped mat that read “no claws beyond this point”.

 

Marinette always had been a Chat Noir fan, definitely his favorite of the bunch, but that was a closely guarded secret. He couldn’t have the fangirls rioting in the streets.

 

The cozy couture expert stepped back into the night air with a sketchbook cradled to her chest and a blanket draped over her shoulders like some kind of cape. Somehow, this sight managed to destroy his earlier thought that she couldn’t have looked any more adorable than she did when he arrived. He chuckled lightly and gave her a playful glance. “Was my super cool costume making you jealous, princess? You don’t need a cape to be my hero.”

 

“I said no laughing.” She wagged a finger. “I guess you don’t actually want to see my sketches.”

 

“No wait!” He felt the fake ears atop his head sag as he pouted. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” Chat patted the railing beside him, inviting the lovely designer to come closer.

 

Marinette laughed, her head shaking. “If I try to jump up onto that bannister then I will fall off and not only will you not get to see my sketches you’ll also have to explain to my family that I died because the great Chat Noir wasn’t quick enough to catch me.”

 

“I’ve got cat-like reflexes, princess. I’ll always catch you.” He extended his hand and watched with interest as she took in a stunned breath in response to his sincerity. Her fingers tensed and then relaxed before she nodded and placed her hand in his. He drew her knuckles to his lips, peppering them with a gentle kiss. “You can trust me.”

 

He released her hand before taking hold of her hips and hoisting her up. She squeaked in shock and then crumbled into delightful giggles. Marinette was set beside him, her hand latching onto his bicep to keep steady, and her eyes brimming with a number of fleeting emotions before settling on a wide-eyed sort of peace. Very slowly, she loosened her hold on him and he had to try not to look too disappointed when she eventually felt stable enough to let go entirely.

 

Wreathed by the city lights and the glittering stars, Marinette looked up at him. “Don’t worry, Chat Noir, I know that I can trust you.”

 

Chat Noir found his gaze inexplicably drawn to her mouth as she spoke, captured by the specs of glitter in her pink lip gloss. It was his turn to swallow an unsure breath. He took a moment to recover, pushing a playful grin and attempting to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. “Don’t go trying to distract me! Let’s see those brilliant designs.”

 

Marinette lowered her book to sit in her lap and bit her lip. Chat wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he noticed the nervous flutter of her eyelashes. “Alright.” She opened the sketchbook, flipping through a few pages before casting him a sideways glance. “Fall lines are usually bold, highly saturated, jewel tones. I didn’t want to stray from that coloring but I still wanted to do something that would feel original. I spent hours on these little details, but I know despite my attempts to go for something a little different, I still wasn’t original enough for Mr. Cluzot.”

 

Delicately, as if handling a precious artifact or a small child, Marinette offered him the sketchbook. The model on the first page was male with sandy blond hair, sketched and colored by her own hands. A long black trench coat, inlaid with thick green stitching at the seams, was layered over leather pants, a deep v-neck blouse, and a pair of boots that were practically identical to the feline hero's. The little cat ear headband and the dark mask made it unmistakable just who her inspiration had been. He felt his heart flutter with pride, but not pride for the fact he had been her muse. Chat Noir was absolutely baffled by the artistry of her design and was proud of how much she had grown as a creative mind. He hadn’t seen any of her designs since high school.

 

“High fashion doesn't have to be entirely practical so I wanted to keep cat ears and a mask, but that was shot down pretty early. Leather is a key to this look. It's heavy on the black with bright green accenting" She smiled fondly, clearly proud of her work. “Paris is so unique because we have two incredibly heroes watching over us, I wanted to pay homage to them and haute couture seemed like the best outlet.”

 

Chat Noir stared down at the sketch in absolute awe. The lines were so clean and the silhouette was so classy. Years of fashion knowledge made it easy to recognize an incredible design, but those were years of Adrien’s experience and he couldn’t really go throwing around jargon or acting like an expert as Chat. He brushed his gloved fingertips along the page and uttered a rather lame. “Wow.”

 

“This is why I thought you might laugh.” Marinette shrunk into herself. “It’s super silly of me and makes me look like a complete fangirl.”

 

“I think it’s really inspired. Lots of big haute couture lines are inspired by media or prominent social figures.” He leaned a little closer to her. “I’m not complete without my lady, though. I’m guessing she’s what I’ll see when I turn the page?”

 

“I’m not nearly as proud of my Ladybug design. I’ll tell you that right now.” She was too humble. She always had been, but it was hard to process how she couldn’t see her own genius when she was the one who had handed him the sketchbook.

 

“I’m sure it’s pawsitively purrrrfect.” Chat winked before turning the page.

 

The drawing looked just as much like Ladybug as the last one had looked like Chat Noir. Marinette clearly spent her time studying the two heroes to get such an incredible likeness. Just like before in the previous sketch, the model wore a mask. Long red ribbons were wrapped around her pigtails, blowing like streamers in the outline. A fluffy black shoulder wrap layer over a red dress. The halter neck was made of black lace that tapered off into the rich red sweetheart neckline. Large black dots decorated the puffed out skirt and it was matched with a pair of simple black heels with a red outer sole. It was just as classy and glamorous as its companion piece.

 

Unbidden, the image of Ladybug wrapped up in the lovely furs and lace stole through his mind. Her cheeks as rosy as the gossamer fabric. He swallowed hard to stop his heart as it prepared to leap out through his throat. Chat looked down at the sketch once more, marveling at just how well it captured his lady’s bold beauty.

 

“I know that it’s a little simplistic in its lines, but I wanted it to be sure that side by side, they would look like they belonged. Ladybug needs Chat Noir and that is true of anything inspired by them as well. She is given a lot of credit for saving Paris, but they’re a team and I think that neither one really is able to stand alone.” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sure I sound like a delusional fangirl.”

 

“No,” He shifted his gaze to her eyes, so big and blue, he hadn’t noticed before how easy it might be to get lost in them. “You sound a lot like Ladybug.”

 

“Oh! No! I’m not Ladybu-- AH!” Marinette lifted both hands to protest, the momentum of her jerky motions causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards. Chat watched in slow motion as her face cycled through at least twenty different expressions and her legs flew up into the air before she entirely disappeared from his side.

 

“Princess!” He jumped after her, capturing her in his arms and pulling her tightly to his chest. He wasn’t sure if the look in her eyes was shock or embarrassment, but he didn’t have time to study it since he had to busy himself with extending his staff to stop their fall and then bring them back up. Her arms wrapped around him tightly and she buried her face against his chest. Chat knew she was probably just trying to hide the ever growing blush on her cheeks, but he enjoyed the gesture anyhow.

 

“I told you that I was going to fall.” Marinette muttered in the most miserable voice possible.

 

They landed back onto the balcony. He kept his princess cradled in his arms, reluctant to set her back down. “Looks like princesses aren’t always as graceful as the title implies.” Chat chuckled. “Good thing cats always land on their feet.”

 

“You are… absolutely impossible.” She huffed, but her smile promised him that she wasn’t nearly as upset as the words might have implied. “That’s way more excitement than I had planned for tonight, so I think it’s about time I crawl into my bed. Thanks for cheering me up.”

 

Chat Noir smiled and nodded. “You’ve had a long day and I agree that you could use some rest. Don’t hesitate to leave a saucer of milk out by the door if you need to call upon my services again.”

 

“Should I leave cookies too?” She asked, setting her hand on the doorknob but never taking her gaze away from him.

 

Giving a wink and a salute, he hopped back up onto the banister. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”

 

“Goodnight, Chat Noir.” Marinette gave a little wave of her own before stepping back into her home.

 

Chat waited for the lights to turn out before he prepared to leave. Glancing over the edge, he noticed her blanket had fallen. Without hesitation, he hopped down and scooped the pale pink fabric up into his arms. A soft flutter of pages followed by a with ‘thud’ caused him to look down at the pavement where he found her sketchbook laying flat. An idea struck him and he picked that up as well.

 

* * *

 

_“Is there someone else?” He can’t stop the words before they rip through the air between him and the red suited heroine._

 

_They are trapped together in an elevator, stuck someplace between the twenty-third and twenty-fourth floor of a hotel while an Akuma is terrorizing the guests. This isn’t the time or place for him to ask and he knows how selfish it is, but they aren’t going anywhere for now and he doesn’t know when again he’ll have the opportunity to speak to her uninterrupted._

 

_“Chat,” There’s a warning in her tone, something almost harsh. “We need to focus on the task at hand. This isn’t… This is far from the time or place.”_

 

_“Please just answer the question.” He feels pathetic. He knows that he must sound it as well given the way his voice cracks on the plea. For Ladybug he is usually willing to be patient, he is usually willing to wait entire eternities for her to make up her mind. But knowing what he isn’t supposed to know is making him crazy. Ladybug told Adrien so many things that had never even been hinted at to Chat Noir. “I understand that you rejected my feelings, and I don’t want it to be something that makes it hard for us in the future. But… I really would like to know if it’s because there’s someone else. I want you to trust me. I want you to be able to confide in me, M’Lady.”_

 

_She sighs, a slow and unsure sort of sound that fills him with dread. Ladybug leans against the sealed door and closes her eyes. “Chat, this is why I didn’t want to talk about… this. We have to prioritize Paris over anything else and I knew that if we addressed our feelings, even if briefly, that it might derail our focus. It’s the same reason I don’t feel comfortable revealing our identities to each other. When we are out here, taking down Akumas and saving lives, we need to have our outside attachments out of sight and out of mind. I trust you, Chat. But I also need you to understand that our friendship can’t be as conventional as you want it to be.”_

 

_Bluebell eyes open and make him regret asking. She guts him with a single glance. She hides nothing in her gaze and he feels every ounce of her disappointment and frustration running like thorns through his veins. But the biggest sting is the shadow of sadness that cloaks every other feature of her face._

 

_“M’Lady, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked.” Recoiling in on himself, Chat Noir feels his back hit the other side of the elevator. They are as far apart as is physically possible in this confined space and those few feet feel like unending acres._

 

_“There’s no one else,” Ladybug’s whisper stops his heart. “It’s only ever been you.”_

 

_They share a shaken sort of silence. He feels dumbfounded. Searching her with his eyes, he flounders for the right thing to say and can’t seem to find it. Luckily, the elevator shook and the lights flickered back on._

 

_Chat Noir stretches out his hand, offering his lady a crooked smile. "Let's save the day, we can maybe talk about this a little bit later."_

_His heart nearly explodes was her dainty hand falls to rest so perfectly in his. "Agreed."_

 

* * *

 

_LaPetiteLadybug: I don’t mean to nitpick, it’s not like anyone really has a full understanding of what is going on in Ladybug’s mind, but I feel like it’s a bit of a stretch to say in one chapter that Ladybug is overwhelmed by the stress of being her and then later have her entirely unstressed over the fact that her and Chat Noir are trapped in an elevator and people could be getting hurt. She can’t be strong when the plot fits and then weak when it benefits making her seem more attainable for Adrien. You took so much time to give Adrien/Chat real goals and wishes and I just don’t feel that from Ladybug, she seems more like an object he’s working to than a character with her own feelings. I really love your writing, but I’m having a hard time understanding this characterization and it’s making it tricky to enjoy the story. <3 LB _

 

_UnChatMalchanceux: I’m sorry that she’s coming across that way to you. The last thing I want is for Ladybug to feel shallow. Obviously I’m writing this because I think that Ladybug is incredible and I don’t want that to slip through the cracks. If you’d be interested, my DMs are open if you want to maybe talk more in depth about what it is that’s bothering you about her and maybe discuss what would be a good way to fix it. I’m purrrtty convinced that you’re the right person for the job, m’lady._

 

Marinette stared at the phone screen as her fingers wrote and deleted the same sentence sixteen times. It had taken everything in her not to delete her first comment before he ever read it, and once he replied she wished she had. Throwing a fit about someone else’s writing was silly, but it was so hard to read herself acting so strange. The obvious solution was to stop reading the story, but with her gut screaming at her that it had to be Chat writing it, she didn’t want to stop just yet.

 

“He doesn’t sound mad in his reply. Maybe you should give messaging him a shot.” Tikki urged beside her.

 

“But what if he really is Chat Noir? I don’t want to get tangled up in a whole nother level of deception.” Marinette groaned and flopped onto her bed.

 

“I think you’re overthinking this, Marinette.”

 

Sighing, she couldn’t really argue with that point. “What would Alya do?”

 

“You’ve got lunch plans with her tomorrow, you can always ask her then. I think what Marinette needs to do is stop stressing about this and get some sleep.” Tikki’s voice was sweet, even when she was gently chastising.

 

Marinette closed her eyes and let her head rest back on the pillow. Something nagged at the pit of her stomach until she opened her mouth and asked a quiet question. “Do you think Chat Noir really views me that way?”

 

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki paused to really think about the question. “I don’t know what Chat Noir thinks and I can't speak for him. I think you should try to remember that this story doesn’t speak for him either.”

 

Clutching her phone close to her chest, Marinette weighed her options. She knew she should just close her eyes and go to sleep. She needed to let the ordeal slide and focus on things far more important than the legitimacy of a portrayal of her superhero self in someone else’s fanfiction.

 

Reason didn’t win however, and before she did give into the need to sleep she typed out a message on her phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per the norm, come say hi on my [Tumblr](https://luckbeabugaboo.tumblr.com/) and leave your comments! I'll be catching up on those soon. <3


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